Page 91 of Always Salty

She walked right in between all the FBI agents and stopped with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Hey, Daddy.” She smiled at Jim.

Jim grinned. “Hey, baby girl.”

“Oh, fuck,” I heard one of the mutters start. “That’s Jim Canadew if that’s actually his daughter.”

“Let me introduce myself,” my super scary lawyer said. “My name is Malone Canadew. I’m Jim Canadew’s”—she dipped her chin toward her old man—“daughter. What are the terms of Mr. Semyonov’s arrest?”

“Harassment of a federal agent,” Chester declared, his eyes hard.

“And you have proof of this harassment?” she asked.

“He was at my house, lady,” Chester argued.

“Actually,” Jim interrupted, “he was at my house. He’s parked in front of my house, are you blind?”

Chester’s chest puffed up. “That’s not what was happening and you know it.”

“Prove it, cat hater,” Jim refuted.

Chester rolled his eyes and yanked me forward.

“Did you see what I just did, Daddy?” Malone sounded so pleased.

“Sure did, baby girl.” Jim went back to watering his plants. “Go get ’em, tiger.”

Malone walked back to her car, a fancy sporty number that fit her well.

“What precinct are you taking him to, fellas?” she asked the group of FBI agents.

“None of your business,” Chester muttered.

“Oh, boy.” Jim laughed softly to himself. “This’ll be fun.”

I was driven around a lot, in what I thought might be an attempt to shake my lawyer.

In the end, it didn’t happen, and we ended up in bumper-to-bumper traffic.

My wrists were aching, but I didn’t let on that I was hurting.

This wasn’t a marked vehicle, so I doubted that there would be any cameras in here.

The FBI agent driving me, number two in particular, hastily got off at an exit when he became impatient in the traffic.

“I hate Dallas,” he muttered to his partner.

“Can’t wait until I get to go back to Colorado,” number one admitted.

The agent came to a stop at the light behind a few other cars, then started doing something on his phone.

The light turned green, and traffic started moving again, but the dumbass breaking the law on his phone didn’t notice.

“The light is green. You can go,” I couldn’t stop myself from saying.

The cop from the front seat didn’t like that.

“I didn’t ask you for your input, Semyonov.”

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